


Luxury

by DeCarabas



Series: Fugitives Together [37]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 16:04:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16835941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeCarabas/pseuds/DeCarabas
Summary: For the prompt: "Out of control." The apostate Champion and a maleficar in the Lowtown market.





	Luxury

A maleficar in the Lowtown market, they’d said.

There’s a circle of scorch marks under Hawke’s boots, and Elegant’s stall has been reduced to splinters, her potions soaking into the dirt, and the kid finally dropping his shield and taking Hawke’s hand can’t be more than seven, eight years old.

There’s always someone who can take on an apprentice, he’s been promising the kid. There’s always ways of getting out of the city ahead of the templars, no matter how public the loss of control. Conscious of the eyes on him, kneeling in the middle of the market in broad daylight.

“Thank you for your help, Champion.” Meredith’s voice at his shoulder like a blow to the gut, making a liar out of him. “We’ll take it from here.”

* * *

Something crashes into the other side of the kitchen door, and Anders pauses with his hand on the door. Pushes it open. Steps over the shards of what used to be a plate, and closes the door again behind him.

Hawke’s sitting at the little kitchen table where they’d had a late breakfast this morning, looking down at his fingertips, and from his expression Anders wouldn’t have guessed anything was wrong, if it weren’t for the bits of floating pottery. Threads of force magic pluck at his coat as he sits down at the table across from Hawke, and a loose strand of his hair starts to rise, weightless. He tucks it back behind his ear.

Well. This is new. 

Hawke meets his eyes, looks away again. “I can afford to replace a few plates,” he says. “And the templars aren’t going to arrest me for this, are they?”

He gestures, and another plate dives for the door. One of the ones with the pattern on it that looks like it’s supposed to be Fereldan, though he’s pretty sure it was made in Orlais. One of the things Leandra had bought, he’d thought.

“I heard about what happened,” Anders says, watching the shards float in the air.

“Mm.” A misshapen mug smashes against the ceiling. The one Hawke usually uses in the mornings.

Orana’s things are still sitting neatly on their shelves, Anders notes, and showing no inclination to start moving of their own accord. And the mug he’s started thinking of as his.

“What would they do to you in the Circle for throwing a temper tantrum like this?” Hawke asks.

“Oh… kitchen duty with the Tranquil for a week, probably, for a new apprentice.” Assuming it’s one of the enchanters handing out the punishment and not one of the templars. Less about the kitchen duty itself and more about spending time with the Tranquil, an unspoken reminder of what happened to mages who couldn’t keep their emotions under control. 

But that was Kinloch, not the Gallows, and that’s not what Hawke really wants to know. He puts his hand over Hawke’s, the weight of force magic dragging at his fingers.

“Meredith’s keeping him in a holding cell for now,” Anders says. Jaken would send word if that changed. But the knight-commander generally left new residents to stew for at least a few days, even accused maleficar. “We’ll get him out.”

“Don’t tell me that. I’ve got to see Meredith tomorrow.” _Smash_.

And this kind of magic’s never really been his specialty, but Anders gives one of the plates hovering in the air a _tug_ , lets it dash itself against the floor with a satisfyingly loud crash. Hawke watches him with a smile playing at the corner of his lips. And it’s not quite the same as taking on the knight-commander, or the whole Gallows, or at least that templar who’s been patrolling outside the estate ever since Hawke became Champion, but satisfying.


End file.
